


A Dream of You

by HDLynn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Minor Injuries, No Smut, Paz falls in love, Sexual Situations, Sexual thoughts, breeding kink implied, gentle sexual tension, minor language, soft!paz, some teasing, thoughts about pregnancy and kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:29:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25862113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HDLynn/pseuds/HDLynn
Summary: Paz takes a job in a nice little town and starts building a friendship with you, until one evening he realizes something one evening.
Relationships: Paz Vizsla/Reader, Paz Vizsla/You
Comments: 13
Kudos: 114





	A Dream of You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maybege](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybege/gifts).



> The prize for my friend & follower Maybege on tumblr for my 250 follower giveaway. ❤️

Paz had been hired to capture some local bandits who had been accosting travelers on the nearby main roads and had, in general, been nuisances. Take out some ge'hutuuns for some good credits and also… a trip to the local mechanic for a rather important repair to the hyperdrive of his ship. The deal was most certainly beneficial seeing as, when he had jumped the _Yellow Chaser_ to this little planet, Paz had not been anticipating such a key mechanism to malfunction.

He had met you when the town had pretty much assigned him to your family for feeding and housing, the mechanic insisting that she did not want him “bumbling” on his own damn ship when she had to uninstall most of the flooring to access the entirety of the hyperdrive engines in the small ship.

You had been quietly curious, that wasn’t new to him. Vizsla was, not a prideful man per-say, but he was used to being treated a certain way. People stared because of his size, various weapons, and armor. They whispered about his religion, how his people had perished because of the Empire. Some asked intrusive questions about the helmet, made jokes at his expense since they couldn’t see his face, while others just cowered in fear.

But you? You had thoughtful eyes, and might be quiet sometimes but that was because you were observing, observing him like he had been observing you, Paz realized with a start one morning as you had handed him a tray with his breakfast and some food packed carefully for a midday meal. His gloved hands accidentally brushing your smaller, bare ones in a feather-like caress as he took the tray. He had tried to forget the warmth that had spread in his chest at the touch and also tried to not wonder if that small intake of breath on your part had been… caused for the same reason.

He did thankfully distract himself by having to tromp around a local swamp, flushing out the bandits from their little hideouts. They were local and knew all the best hiding spots, and more than once Paz had come back to the town with one or two of them in tow covered in grime and squelching mud all in his boots and covering his blue painted armor.

No one had dared make mention of his sorry state, caused by a tumble into the swamp when a muddy piece of grass and earth had just given way underneath his weight. No one except you.

He saw it in the sparkle in your eyes and the light quirk of your lips that he was a complete mess, and yet he couldn’t be bothered to care if that brought you some measure of laughter.

“You can use the ‘fresher to clean off… _after_ you hose off the boots at the very least, Mando,” you said with a puckish grin, his moniker dancing bright and cheery on your tongue. 

Your older sister had gasped at the audacity of you telling this huge Mandalorian what to do, but Paz couldn’t help the chuckle that broke through his modulator and did just as you had said. He knew in that moment all your watching had been seeing his character behind the helmet and somehow had already figured him out as not being the huge brute some people would always see. It made him feel strange inside, the warmth returning to his chest.

You both settled into a pattern after that, pausing to talk longer and longer when you handed over his breakfast or dinner tray. Paz didn’t even care if all the food and caf went cold. He looked forward to the teasing moments in the evenings, both of you easing more every time you both where in each other’s company.

It was during one of your evening talks, the sun casting a golden orange glow as it slid close and then touched the horizon, when it happened. Sitting side-by-side, legs almost touching, you both had started when one of the local children had taken a tumble of the street while playing and began weeping in the dust.

Paz had been up quickly but you, you had somehow outpaced him, already crouching down by the wounded toddler and speaking to them in a soothing calm voice.

He just watched, frozen in a half-standing half-crouched stance, as you set the child on her feet, it was a girl he now recognized from the week he had been in the town. A bright, copikla, little thing.

You brushed their hair back with a gentle hand talking to the girl in soft but firmly cheery tones. He couldn’t tell what you had said but whatever it was had made the child take a deep shuddering breath before nodding vigorously even as a few fat tears still trailed down their cheeks. The child then offered up two slightly reddened palms to be kissed, which you did. Pressing soft kisses to both before blowing a raspberry on both of the child’s cheeks which made her scream with laughter, any tiny bit of pain long forgotten in exchange for glee. 

You would make an amazing buir, Paz thought before his brain whispered something entirely more dangerous and thrilling. You would make an amazing buir and riduur. His riduur.

Kriff. _Ohhh, kriff._

Paz straightened up, his spine stiffening in realization while his cock also twitched in his pants. He was currently, extremely, grateful for the fact that he was wearing a codpiece, he was already half-hard and was feeling as if he was a randy teenager again. And all at just the thought of you with his child, the thought of the activities required to create said child.

Maker, he could just see you carrying his child in your swelling belly, a hand resting protectively between the soft roundness of your breasts and stomach. The idea of you cradling a small babe swaddled in a soft blanket, with pudgy, little hands and perfect, soft cheeks with your eyes and his hair. Or maybe they would look more like you than him, that was more then okay in his opinion.

As you returned to the house, the little girl now right back to playing again, Paz straighten up and settled his hands at the top of his belt. But immediately worried about that position calling attention to his current… um… problem. But Paz wasn’t the kind of man — or Mandalorian for that matter — who was one to second guess or fidget so he kept that stance and the instantly was fidgeting with the flap of one of his leather pouches on his belt. He couldn’t help it all, he could think about now was how in the seven hells he was going to go about courting you. But he already knew what he wanted the first step to be, what it needed to be, he wanted to tell you his name.

~*~*~ **  
**

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:  
> ge'hutuun: bandit/villain/petty thief  
> Copikla: charming/cute  
> Buir: parent  
> Riduur: spouse


End file.
